A/N: Guess what. I don’t think this is quite as long as the others, do you?

Ash looked up at the doctor, towering over him, the next day. The man said, “Sir, we may be able to cure you. We had a donor recently, and we have the requirements to help you. You may just live after all.”

Ash’s eyes brightened. “Really?” He asked. The man nodded. He said that the operation would be done the next day. Once the doctor was gone, Brock entered the room. “Hey, have you seen Misty?”

“No,’ Ash said, “Why?”

“Because I’m worried about her.” Brock said. But he didn’t go on.


Ash came out of the operation as good as new, and then all work was turned to the donor. Ash slept, while Brock sat in the room crying. When Ash woke, it was the same, but now, he knew that Brock was really upset.

“What’s so horrible.”

“Misty...” Brock said, “Misty was the one who donated her lung. She only has a fifty percent chance of survival, and that’s only for a year or two. But you know what, she’s being a good spirit about it.”

“What?!” Ash yelled, he moved up, painfully, in his bed. “Mist did this?” He touched his chest, and remembered her words, You’re not going to die. A tear slid down his face.

“Don’t cry,” Brock said, “You’ll hurt yourself.”

“She can’t die.” Ash said, “She can’t.”

“She won’t.” Brock added. “Not now at least.”

Ash looked up at the door, sliding open. “I don’t know what to say,” Deliah said, “Misty is so good to you. I hope to god she lives.”


Within’ one month, Ash, Misty, and Brock were on the road again. Although sometimes they had to take breaks, because now Misty had a harder time breathing. She smiled at them happily though.

“I love you guys to death, and I’d give my other lung too if I had to.” She caught up and strolled behind Ash. But lingering on her mind was the constant fear of Falling into death.